


Ashes to ashes

by StickyKeys1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Relationship(s), Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StickyKeys1/pseuds/StickyKeys1
Summary: …what is love with no pain, no suffering? He locked eyes with Draco Malfoy, and Harry Potter's heart went thump thump thump in the back of his throat. Maybe that's why Harry survived a war, and all it took to break him was Draco Malfoy. Maybe that's why Draco promised he was done with manipulation and lying, and all it took to break that promise was Harry Potter. (Oneshot)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 15





	Ashes to ashes

Maybe that was why.

Sometimes, Harry liked to escape. To find himself in some corner of some Muggle coffee shop where the baristas just smiled blandly or not at all like they did with every customer, called 'Harry, please,' and ignored him as soon as he picked up his coffee.

Harry liked to escape when the rain splattered against the windowpanes and spilled into the insides of his trainers. He liked to stand in Muggle London and feed the pigeons that clustered outside the Tube stations with bread crusts from his pockets.

He especially liked the Reptile House at the zoo. Harry couldn't understand Parseltongue anymore, but he found the slow, languid movements of the snakes relaxing.

Sometimes he'd invite Ron and Hermione to come take a quiet walk along the Thames with him, but most of the time he liked to be alone, lost in thought.

One particularly cold, rainy Sunday, Harry saw him.

Well, he didn't see him first. Harry was sitting near to the window, sipping his coffee and warming his hands at the same time while peripherally listening to the small talk going on around him when one the baristas called 'Draco, please.'

Curious and shaky from the caffeine, Harry swiveled around and locked eyes with Draco Malfoy.

The cup of coffee wobbled in his hand and spilled all over his favorite pair of jeans. Harry yelped as the hot liquid made contact with his skin, momentarily forgetting he was a wizard and frantically dabbing at the stain and his poor leg with a fistful of napkins when all that was required was a quiet _Scourgify_ and _Episkey._

Draco Malfoy decided to investigate, drawn to the clumsy man somehow, as if by some magical force.

But that was stupid.

_Honestly, Potter. Can't you do anything by yourself?_

Draco surreptitiously pulled out his wand and Scourgify-ed and Episkey-ed the spill himself.

Harry was looking up at him with an intense green gaze and flushed cheeks. Draco noticed the tips of his ears were red too and looked away.

 _Hi_ Draco, he said in a soft voice.

Sitting down went against Draco's better judgement. He sat.

Draco couldn't help but notice that Saint Potter looked a bit less scrawny than he had since he last saw him at Hogwarts.

_You look good, Potter._

Shit, did he say that out loud?

Clearly, he had, because Harry's expression had changed into something rather impish.

_Is that so? You can call me by my first name, you know, since you're comfortable enough with me to comment on my appearance._

Draco rubbed the nape of his neck, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

 _So, what do you do these days? Harry?_ he asked grudgingly, hating every word that came out of his mouth.

Potter looked down at the now nearly-empty cup of coffee.

 _Not much. I'm, uh, training to be an Auror. Ron's training too._ He fiddled with the handle of the cup, staring at the floor.

The atmosphere between them felt strained and awkward.

 _You know, I never apologized._ Harry's head snapped up to meet Draco's gaze.

_What for?_

_You know what for. I'm sorry, I did some things that I shouldn't have. I was horrible to you and your friends when you never tried to be my enemy. I've grown up now, I see that I did wrong, and I'm sorry._

Harry looked surprised.

_And I'd... I'd like to see you again._

Draco thought he had gone too far. He hadn't meant for everything on his mind to just rush out like that, and he wanted to somehow take the truth back or at else curl up in a ball and hide.

Harry inspected the remains of the coffee and decided it was enough for a last sip.

_Yeah. I think I'd like that._

* * *

That Sunday, it rained again but was warm instead of icy cold. The scent of spring was in the air. The rain thumped softly against the wet pavement outside.

Harry stared absentmindedly out the window, deep in thought. The cup of coffee had ended up at the edge of the table between them, and Draco quickly pushed it out of the way of Harry's elbow.

Harry's reverie was broken, and his thoughts began to rearrange themselves into something coherent.

_Draco?_

Harry Potter's heart went _thump thump thump_ in the back of his throat.

And because Harry was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors are brave, and because bravery means doing something even when you're terrified, he continued.

_Listen, Draco, I've been meaning to ask. Will you go out with me? To dinner, one night, or something. I mean, like a date kind of thing. Whatever you like._

Maybe it was a bad idea, but he was drawn to the danger.

Besides, he usually got out of whatever trouble he got himself into.

Draco laughed sharply.

_Yeah. I think I'd like that._

* * *

Harry was drowsy and languid with contentment, feeling a deep sense of happy fulfillment just to wake up to Draco's warm slumbering form beside him. He snuggled deeper under the covers and even closer to Draco, if that was humanly possible, pressing a kiss to his cheek and listening to his chest rise and fall as he softly inhaled and exhaled and breathing in Draco's warm scent.

 _Boyfriend_ , Harry thought dreamily. Draco had made no attempt to put a label on their relationship (he just needed more time). But Harry knew he was in love because when he looked at Draco sleeping peacefully beside him, he felt a warm, happy feeling in the pit of his stomach as if he had just cast the Patronus Charm.

Draco woke to a sense of faint grogginess and then a burning heat followed by deep annoyance, barely noticing Harry's blissful state and instead focusing on how uncomfortably warm he felt and the scratch of Harry's hair against his back and how tight his hold on Draco was.

 _Get the fuck off me, you're too fucking warm,_ was all he said as he sat up, extricating himself from Harry's grip. If Draco had been paying attention, he would have seen the surprise and hurt in Harry's eyes, but he wasn't.

Instead Harry reached over to the nightstand to slide his glasses up his nose and lower his legs over the side of the bed, asking if Draco wanted coffee, this time pressing a kiss to his forehead. _I love you._

* * *

Harry had just gotten home from Auror training, and they were sitting on the kitchen floor of Draco's flat. Harry absentmindedly asked Draco what his Patronus was, having never seen it before, and Draco replied that he didn't have one.

Harry was surprised. Given Draco's magical ability he should have at least been able to conjure silver mist, if nothing else.

_Do you want me to teach you?_

_You have to think of a happy memory._

And after a hour of Harry holding his hand and patiently instructing him on the casting of a spell, Draco was able to produce a faint, silvery mist from his wand, so feeble it was barely visible.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco, _Are you really so unhappy?_

 _No,_ said Draco, forcing the thought down. _Did you expect me to produce a full one on your first go just because you did? Don't you ever find it difficult? Being happy at the time._

Harry looked down at his hands and began to talk shakily about what haunted him most, about watching Sirius fall into the veil and living in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys, and the Dementors.

_Why did you lie that night in Malfoy Manor, Draco? You could have told them it was me._

Draco shook his head, _too much pain._

Harry understood.

* * *

Harry discovered the true extent of Draco's fondness for green when his flat became overtaken with it. Green apples, Draco's green Quidditch jersey draped over the green armchair, green paint on the walls, green curtains, green plants, green keychain ornaments, green candles.

It was actually getting fricking ridiculous, but Harry didn't have the heart to get rid of any of it.

Besides, green was a relaxing color.

* * *

Draco thought, that first night he agreed to go out with Harry, that he was too perfect not to ruin.

But he didn't know or didn't care to know that Harry wasn't perfect; so he kept pushing him. Pushing him to the edge to find out what would happen when he broke.

Draco didn't know where this desire to destroy Harry came from.

Maybe it was because Harry was sunshine and grass and the way the wind whipped through your hair on a spring day and Draco was the coldest and stillness of winter.

Maybe that was why.

* * *

Harry unscrewed the cap and sniffed the contents of the bottle tentatively.

_What's this? Smells a bit weird._

Draco looked offended. _It's anise. I thought you'd like it_ , he said, crossing his arms.

Harry raised an eyebrow. _You thought I'd like it, or you thought you'd like it on me?_

_Does it matter?_

_No, not really._

* * *

Harry took a shower. His hair smelled like burning insulation and some unidentified venom from the practical test in Auror training earlier. He relaxed as the warm water soothed his aching muscles.

He blinked at the fuzzy outline of the shower curtain as a glob of shampoo rolled down his neck.

It was probably about 5:30. He had about one-and-a-half more hours to finish getting ready.

He didn't know why he even bothered as he tried combing his hair, grimacing at the result in the mirror and dripping a copious amount of water onto the bathroom mat.

One hour and fifteen minutes.

He brushed his teeth and splashed more water on his face, and wondered if his hair still smelled awful.

One hour.

Harry checked the alarm clock in his room, and it was indeed 6:29. He pulled on a clean pair of trousers and went in search of a button-up shirt that wasn't rumpled.

Forty-five minutes.

He'd succeeded in finding a shirt and spritzed some of the cologne Draco had bought him on his wrists. Now he fumbled with the laces of his trainers and decided that his hair still smelled like the unidentified venom.

Thirty minutes.

He thought about calling Draco to tell him that he was ready, but remembered that he didn't have a phone and dialed Hermione's number instead and laid on the bed listening to her talk his ear off about _spew,_ amongst other things. She reminded Harry that Ginny had her tryouts for the Holyhead Harpies tomorrow, and Harry made a note to call her and wish her luck.

_How is Luna doing by the way? I haven't seen her in a while, does she still write you? I just moved apartments so she hasn't got my address yet._

_Oh, she's fine, looking for Nargles or something in South America. You know Luna._

Fifteen minutes.

Harry glanced at the clock and saw 6:45, and his heart beat faster in anticipation.

_Harry, are you still there?_

_Huh?_

_Yeah, 'Mione, I'm still here. Sorry, just spaced out for a second._

Five minutes.

Harry had gotten off the phone with Hermione. To his dismay, the shirt had gotten crumpled again and he grabbed his wand, trying to straighten it.

He really needed to buy an iron.

6:59.

_He'll be here in one minute!_

Harry felt his face and chest fill with an excited warmth as he left the bedroom, shakily closing the door behind him and walking into the living room while pulling down the cuffs of his shirt. The sound of his loafers on the ground was muffled by one of Draco's green rugs.

He chewed the inside of his mouth, and checked his watch. It was 7:08.

_Maybe he's just late._

Harry no longer believed that was the case once it got to 7:45. He got up from the one armchair in the living room and walked across to his small kitchen, and poured himself some coffee.

_Maybe he's forgotten we were going out tonight. Or that he was supposed to pick me up._

He thought of going back into his bedroom to call Draco, but then realized he didn't own a telephone.

 _Anyway, even if he forgot, he could just call_ me _on a payphone. He has my number._

Harry sat back down in the armchair, balancing the cup of coffee precariously on his left leg. He looked up at the clock above the door. It was 8:00.

Terror gripped Harry like a vise closing around the midsection.

_What if something had happened to him?_

He constructed nightmare situations in his mind, thought of the kidnapping scenario from Auror training they'd been through last week.

_I'll have to go out and look for him._

* * *

Draco looked tiredly at Theodore Nott out of the thick silver-blonde hair that tickled his eyelashes.

_Why am I doing this, really? What am I getting out of this?_

_This is stupid._

_Oh. I remember why I'm doing this. Not to get attached to Harry, no matter how much I might want to. I don't want to._

There must have been a faint knock on the door, because Nott had his trousers on all of a sudden and had walked towards the door.

Draco wondered vaguely who it could be at that hour and sat up.

He heard a faint voice from the doorway. Nott was blocking it so Draco couldn't see who it was.

 _Have you seen Draco?_ the voice was saying. _I'm just worried about him since we had plans for tonight and now it's nearly nine o'clock and he wouldn't just forget-_

 _Harry,_ Draco thought with a sudden pang of guilt. Especially given what he had just done, forgetting about their date and sleeping with Nott, and to top it all off, Saint Potter turned up at his apartment _worried about him_.

And he'd rewarded Harry's loyalty with what?

_Wait, why are you in Draco's apartment alone? Did he let you in? When did you see him last?_

Nott jumped in surprise as Harry, fully visible to Draco now, pushed past him into the apartment.

Draco made no move to hide what he'd just done.

Harry looked like he'd dressed nicely for a change- and Draco's heart dropped. He was wearing the cologne Draco bought him, and Draco stared at his hands because he couldn't bring himself to look into the green eyes that were probably shining with tears.

 _What have you done,_ Harry said quietly. It wasn't a question.

Then he turned to Nott.

_Get out! Get the fuck out right now or I'll rearrange your intestines!_

Draco had noticed that he was the only one who liked to encourage Harry's anger, probably because he knew Harry would hold himself back from hurting Draco, because Nott picked up his shirt and scrambled out of the apartment barefoot.

* * *

_What the_ fuck _do you see in Nott that you don't see in me, Draco! What makes him better than me, huh? Is it my mother's dirty Muggle blood that you don't like? What is it? Why don't you care about me?_

 _Because you love me,_ Draco thought. _That's the answer to all of your questions. You'd do anything for me right now and I can't help but abuse that because I'm a selfish bastard._

Do _you think you're special, Harry? Don't you know that I can go out there and find someone_ just like you _? You are_ replaceable _._

But what else did Harry expect from that _crazy fucking Gemini_?

Harry wanted to know why Draco was _such a fucking coward,_ and why he couldn't show _an ounce of compassion._

Draco wanted to know why Harry had to get so _damn emotional_ and make such a big deal over _everything._

_Would it kill you to think about anyone else's feelings but your own for a change?_

And then he stormed out, slamming the door.

Harry showed up at Draco's flat moments later.

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I love you. I don't want to fight anymore._

_Then what do you want?_

Harry sighed and glared at him, crossing his arms.

 _You can't treat me like this, Draco. For God's sake, I'm your_ boyfriend _, not just some stranger-_

_Boyfriend? Is that what you want?_

Harry stepped closer to Draco, still fuming.

_Yes, Draco, that's what I fucking want. Brilliant powers of deduction, they should nominate you for University Challenge or something._

_Fine._

_Would it kill you to say 'I'm sorry?'_

Draco decided he was sick of Harry's anger. His nerves felt frayed and he was exhausted from screaming at the top of his lungs.

Besides, Harry was better at screaming anyway.

Draco pressed his lips together. _I'm sorry_ , he said.

Draco wordlessly pulled Harry into a hug, and he looked back at him with some strange emotion of relief and gratitude and a mix of other things Draco didn't want to feel.

He didn't want to be in the kitchen in his apartment, holding Harry Potter amidst the shards of glass from the argument earlier scattered on the floor.

Draco pushed the feelings of dread to the back of his head and focused on emptiness.

* * *

Draco felt warm. Warm from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and his usually cold hands.

It was probably the Firewhiskey.

Granger regarded him warily from where she sat with Weasley and Harry. Neither of the other two had noticed him yet, lurking in the shadows.

He didn't intend to be noticed. When Harry had told him that he, Granger, and Weasley were going out to celebrate him and Weasley graduating from Auror training, Draco had mumbled some kind of excuse not to come.

Something along the lines of not wanting to piss off Granger and Weasley; he couldn't remember.

Anyway, he'd felt bad about lying and decided to turn up anyway, against his better judgement, and now he was here, half-drunk in the darkest corner of the Leaky Cauldron and not wiliing to reveal that he'd cared to come.

He heard snatches of _he doesn't deserve you Harry, honestly, you can do so much better than Malfoy_ , mostly from Granger.

Clearly Granger thought Harry had settled for him because Saint Potter didn't know his own worth.

... _you need to stand up for yourself a bit more, Harry. And I don't mean yelling at people._

She was probably right about that.

Draco shrugged it off has he made a beeline for Harry, who had finally spotted him in the corner.

_So I suppose I should be calling you Auror Potter now? Has a nice ring to it. Auror Saint Potter._

_Shut up,_ Harry mumbled. His face was also flushed. _Are you happy to see me?_

_Yes. Very._

_Can I kiss you?_ he whispered, tracing a finger down Draco's jawline

_You're playful tonight, Saint Potter._

_Can you blame me?_

Harry smelled like that damned cologne again (Draco was beginning to regret buying it for him) and his confidence was infectious.

Draco Malfoy's heart went _t_ _hump thump thump_ in the back of his throat. His heartbeat was fluttering in his fingertips.

He tried to hold back, pulling away slightly at first but he couldn't stop himself, and then Harry's lips were soft and insistent against his and Draco felt like he was on fire.

 _We have an audience, Harry._ Draco's voice came out hoarse and ragged.

_I don't care._

_I love_ you, Draco thought. But he wasn't quite drunk enough to say it.

* * *

The second time.

Harry muttered, _Alohamora._ He pushed on the door and it swung open noiselessly.

_Draco?_

_Are you home?_

The flat was still and quiet, except for the rain striking the windows with a heavy _thump_.

It was a cold day, and the rain threatened to turn into hail.

Harry was about to turn around and disappear back into the hallway when he heard a quiet sob.

_Draco, is that you?_

_Hey Draco have you got a minute-_

Harry poked his head into the room, turning the cool, metal knob with his left hand while his right hand held the gift behind his back.

First, he noticed the sound. The sobbing was no longer muffled.

Draco was hunched on the bed, sobbing as if his heart would break, with the stark white sheets bunched around him.

His body shook with each sob as the rain turned to hail and began to pelt the windows even harder.

Harry started to go to him.

 _Don't!_ Draco turned to face him. His face was red and swollen from crying. Tears rolled down his face, and he didn't attempt to wipe them away.

He gazed at Harry with blank misery.

_You don't know what I've done._

* * *

Either he didn't know how to love or he didn't care; it didn't matter either way. It didn't matter when the tears welled up in Harry's big green eyes and his voice was pathetic with heartbreak, it didn't matter to Draco.

He blinked the tears from his eyes and focused on feeling nothing.

Draco sat down on the edge of the bed, Harry sitting beside him. The wrapped box slipped to the floor.

_-You know I'm not a good person, Harry._

_Why can't you try to be a better person?_

_Stop being so emotional,_ Draco said.

And Harry tiredly responded, _I'm sorry, Draco. I just wish you'd put up a fight for me. I love you._

And all Draco could do was shrug as he stood up and began to walk out of the room, Harry storming after him.

_Either you love me back and you're too much of a coward to admit it, or you just don't give a fuck about me._

_I'm leaving Harry. I can't do this anymore. It's too much. You - you're too much._

_Draco, please. Please don't do this. I need you._

_Do you want to know the truth, Harry?_

You probably deserve better than me, Draco thought. But he kept pushing.

_You want to know how I feel?_ _You mean nothing to me. I never loved you._

Harry staggered like he'd been shot. His bottom lip quivered and Draco began to feel a tiny bit bad.

 _Just Avada me and be done with it, then,_ he said in a quiet, monotone voice.

_Just don't-_

_don't leave me-_

_-DRACO!_

But it didn't matter because Harry was bawling and grasping at empty air, and Draco was never going to listen because Harry was speaking in an emotion Draco didn't understand.

-And that was how Harry Potter found himself sitting on his twin bed in his small flat in his small bedroom in a busy Muggle neighborhood, sobbing his eyes out with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger on the other end of the phone, because he was _still_ the little boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs.

 _Maybe that was why_ , he muttered, his world foggy though his eyes filled with tears and his glasses foggy from the tears and the cotton balls in his ears and the numbness of his hands on his wet face.

And then he hung up on Ron and Hermione and Apparated to Draco's flat to scream at him, to force him to share Harry's pain and feel his rage.

And when Draco failed to respond, to get angry, to apologize, to throw Harry out of the flat or hold him and tell him that he was sorry and he loved him, Harry broke.

When he opened his eyes, they were strange and dark and terrible.

It was the third time he'd ever used the Cruciatus Curse, and the first time he'd truly meant it, taken pleasure in seeing someone squirm on the floor, the white-hot rage and anger and _desire_ to cause pain had never been a part of Harry before.

Because, he'd learned that Draco was never going to understand Harry; the only language that they shared was pain.

And when Harry was done, he left without a word. Just as Draco had.

But not before Draco croaked from the kitchen floor, _I understand now._

* * *

Two sharp raps on his door. Harry moved slowly, wandering aimlessly towards the door like the Dementors had sucked on his soul, and opened it. As he did he had a sudden sick thought of _what if it's Draco_.

_What is this?_

_An intervention._

* * *

Hermione was holding a faded green jersey.

_Don't throw that away, it reminds me of Draco._

_Ron, will you do the honors then?_

Harry started as the jersey vanished.

* * *

_Do you know I can't produce a Patronus, anymore?_ he asked Ron. _I survived a war and all it took to break me was Draco Malfoy._

His best friend hugged him silently, Harry's tears flowing down his face as he quietly sobbed into Ron's shoulder.

* * *

Harry stood in the bathroom, staring at the blotchy skin on his face and the puffiness around his eyes. His hair looked even messier than usual, sticking out of his head in a bizarre tangle.

 _Go home, I'll cover for you,_ Ron had told him at training. _You look like shit. Well, more like shit than you usually do._

Usually, that would have elicited a chuckle and a sassy retort from Harry, but all he'd been able to manage was a weak small fake smile.

He cupped the pills in his sweaty right hand and the glass of water in the other.

* * *

_I've got more things to get rid off,_ Harry said. Ron and Hermione looked at him in mild surprise, Hermione was sitting on the arm of the faded armchair Ron was sitting in, Harry sitting at their feet.

_Are you sure?_

_Yeah. I'm ready. I don't want to keep anything._

Harry didn't know how he'd managed to accumulate so much crap. Letters, pictures, another green Quidditch jersey, a green zoo pass that reminded him of Draco and a broken coffee mug. Everything green in the house they could find went into the pile. Green plants, green candles, green keychain ornaments.

Harry picked up a picture from the pile. It was a Muggle picture; a Polaroid, so it didn't move. It was him and Draco; Harry didn't remember but he must have asked someone else to take it.

The Harry in the picture was grinning ear to ear and pretty much sparkling in effervescent happiness. He wasn't looking at the camera; he was looking at Draco, who was staring blankly at the photographer.

_Wasn't that pretty much the essence of the relationship, though?_

Harry stuffed the picture in his back pocket and cast _Incendio_ on the pile.

He watched as the blue flames licked hungrily at every memory of Draco and reduced him to ashes.

 _Do you feel better?_ Ron asked.

_Yeah._

* * *

Draco showed up at the door, asking for his jersey back.

_Sorry, it's gone. Bye. It's over, Draco._

_Do you still love me?_

_Yes. Even though I know you don't. Get out of my life, please._

Harry closed the door quietly and sat back down beside the armchair, nudging the ashes on the floor with his foot.

He should clean up the mess before it spread everywhere.

 _Was that Malfoy?_ Hermione asked.

_Yeah._

_What the hell does he think he's doing coming back here?_

* * *

Draco sighed as Harry shut the door on him.

 _I love you_ , he finally said.

But it was too late. The time for the truth had passed.

* * *

Harry held the roller dripping red onto the green rug that he'd forgotten to throw out. Not blood, although that was what it looked like.

Harry stood in front of the forest green wall, feeling hesitant. Another blob of paint dripped onto the rug.

Of course, he could have just changed the walls with the Color Changing Charm, but Hermione had agreed that it would be more cathartic if Harry painted over them himself.

His right hand trembling, he placed the roller on the wall, leaving an angry splash of crimson.

Harry began to paint.

* * *

The Muggle coffee shop again.

Harry wasn't ready, although he'd managed to cast his first corporeal Patronus that morning. He was ready for the coffee shop, but not ready for who he ran into.

 _Harry, I-_ Draco began as the other man pushed past him.

Everything felt foggy again and Harry Potter's heart went _thump thump thump_ in the back of his throat. This time, from pure fear.

Cold sweat clung to his skin and he turned back to check that he was alone.

Harry was not alone.

 _I saved your life, you saved mine, then you ruined my life. I think we're about even,_ Malfoy, _as along as you_ _le_ _ave me alone._

Draco opened his mouth to speak.

_Whatever you have to say, I don't want to hear it. Maybe you can say it to Nott or whomever you slept with the second time._

And with barely a glance to check that no Muggles were watching, Harry spun on his heel and disappeared from the pavement with a _pop._

Or at least, he would have had Draco not grabbed his arm.

_Harry, can I kiss you?_

Harry finally looked Draco in the eyes. _It won't be the same._

The chance to tell Harry that he loved him back was gone. And Draco looked down at the pavement, his eyes welling with tears as he realized it.

_I'm sorry. I fucked up. I'm sorry. I should never have pushed you the way that I did. And if I could go back in time and protect you from me, I would._

_I probably wouldn't listen. I don't love you because I want to, Draco._

The kiss tasted like regret and felt like longing.

_Goodbye, Draco._

_I love you._

* * *

Harry was ready. Ready for Draco to show up to their Hogwarts class reunion with his parent's choice of bride, Astoria something or other, some pretty pureblood girl Harry barely recognized.

Harry and Astoria made small talk as Draco watched apprehensively from across the room.

For a former Slytherin, she was quite chatty, talking about how she and Draco first met, their first date, how he'd proposed, et cetera.

Harry wondered if Draco had told her about _them_. Probably not.

Astoria said something that surprised Harry.

_I gave him this lovely anise-scented candle; my sister brought it over from her trip to Egypt. And do you know, he absolutely could not stand the smell of it. I actually had to throw it away eventually. It was such a shame; it was a really nice candle._

* * *

_I want to show you something,_ Draco said after Astoria disappeared into the crowd.

_Expecto Patronum!  
_

The silver mist still did not take shape; but it was bright and the warmth that it gave off was palpable.

Harry smiled faintly. _What were you thinking of? It must have been a powerful memory._

_You._

Perhaps he'd said the wrong thing; Harry's expression twisted into something strange and Draco wished he'd taken the time to get to know his facial expressions.

But how could he when he barely knew his own?

Draco said, _it wouldn't have worked out anyway, we're much too different, maybe that was why._

And Harry said, _yeah, maybe,_ and walked away.

 _No, that's not it_ , Draco thought. _Granger was right, I don't deserve him._

The sun went in under a cloud, and he was left standing under a grey sky.

Draco watched Harry disappear back into the crowd, keeping an eye on the raven colored spot until it faded completely.

The silver mist faded, too.

He felt cold.


End file.
